


To Catch A Predator

by CandyKitten



Category: Predator, Predator (1987)
Genre: Aliens, Gay, M/M, Male Slash, Mpreg, Other, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:01:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6172012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyKitten/pseuds/CandyKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dutch/Predator. A Fic request. What if Dutch was the mate of a predator? A retelling of the film through yaoi spectacles +more. May be 20 chapters or so.<br/>For Dimond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Clever little thing

“Ruuuun! Run! Get to the chopper!”

Anna stared. She was scared beyond her mind. But she couldn’t move, wouldn’t move, as she knew a prophecy was about to unfold in front of her. One she didn’t mention. The other half of _El cazador trofeo de los hombres._

“What are you doing!?” He barked as the Predator loomed above, “Run!”

She didn’t.

He lay groaning on the ground after being hit in the shoulder by that freaky alien shoulder cannon. The Predator hadn’t meant to hit him, he only meant to knock the gun away. Dutch went to get up and run but the extraterrestrial leaped down from the trees at his feet, asserting its heavy presence. They both took in its grandeur stature with speechless gaping mouths. Dutch attempted to crawl backwards but then The Predator held down Dutch’s good shoulder, and with an action that could only be described as affectionate gripped his face with curling fingers. He pulled a small tube out of one of his fancy futuristic, armour slots and popped it open. He forcibly poured its contents down the man’s throat, who sputtered and swore. Anna watched his fighting body go limp and his voice quiet down. His head lolled around and his words slurred, like he was a drunk being forced into sobriety.

She watched as it clipped his vest off in one movement and tenderly ran a hand down the finely toned chest, stopping a hand on his belly. Yes, this was the perfect specimen. Strong, he liked that. But was it intelligent?

As a pointy nail began ripping his pants, his vision became clear again. The predator was now focused in Dutch’s vision. Suppressing the violently excruciating pain in his unpinned shoulder, he swung. He missed of course but the alien was momentarily distracted as it dodged and that was enough Dutch needed. He kicked the creature off him and scrambled unsteadily to his feet and ran. He didn’t get very far as his feet gave out from whatever it was he ingested. It wasn’t unpleasant, but all his limps felt like jello. He couldn’t be a jello soldier, especially with that thing killing- that killed all his men.

He remembered the skinned bodies. The hole in Blain’s chest. Dillon’s cry. Billy’s. He’d avenge them all.

The Predator didn’t chase him immediately, he’d give this human a head start. He enjoyed this game of cat and mouse. Some animals like to play with their food; The ones at the top of the food chain, of which he was, indisputably.

  
_“When I was little, we found a man. He looked like - like, butchered. The old women in the village crossed themselves... and whispered crazy things, strange things. "El Diablo cazador de hombres." Only in the hottest years this happens. And this year, it grows hot. We begin finding our men. We found them sometimes without their skins... and sometimes much, much worse. "El cazador trofeo de los hombres" means the demon who makes trophies of men.”_

  
Dutch’s feet gave out he slipped and ended up sliding uncontrollably down some narrow mud slicked slope.

As he saw a clearing he could only muster an _‘Oh shit!’_ before he was spat off the cliff. His arms flailed about but with his years of experience he managed to naturally turn his body in the air to dive in feet first. He was tossed around as he made impact, tumbling through rough uncaring waves. He was carried down the stream to meet yet another fall, a waterfall. As soon as Dutch landed he put one arm in front of the other and swam on, his only focus on survival, not even noticing that his injuries no longer hurt, nor his limbs made of liquid.

He spotted a bank and swam towards it. He tried to pull himself up but just plopped his head down on the mud, too exhausted from the chaos that his body just went through just moments before. The sudden calm was overwhelming.

There came a splash from behind him, interrupting his second of serenity. He was reminded of his predicament and found strength from some storage that all soldiers have stowed away in some secret place deep inside, that even they have no direct access to. With one panicked glance he turned and pushed himself up the muddy bank.

The waves parted on the surface as the Predator loomed underneath, heading toward Dutch’s little bank. The soldier, terrified for the first in all his life, scooted backwards in fear. Spikes peaked first. Dutch’s back met with the root of some large tree. He tucked himself between the roots and reached for his gun. Nothing. He could only cower and grip the roots as the rest of the creature’s massive inhuman body emerged. There were little blue sparks of electricity flowering all over the surface of the alien armour, the invisible camouflage malfunctioning. The Predator pressed some buttons on its arm and disabled it.

Somehow his prey had managed to hide from him. How very clever. Although he could easily take off his mask and smell him out, he wanted to test exactly how clever this intriguing being was. It excited him. Nothing had excited him for a very long time. Nothing across the galaxies and planets he crossed and conquered had put a rush in his blood like this. No opponent strong or worthy enough. He’d stopped doing it for the thrill of the hunt a ling time ago, when it had become dull and boring. He had other purposes entirely now. A purpose that every life form lived for. A purpose he hoped could make him feel alive again.

Dutch kept completely still, a hard solemn look on his face. Three red dots adorned the right eye of the Predator as it spotted something, aiming with its laser. The shoulder cannon fired once and sparks rained down onto Dutch. He shut his eyes tightly.

A rat squeaked and ran away terrified. The shoulder cannon and head of the alien moved in unison as it looked around for Dutch once more before trudging on. The man in hiding sighed in relief then touched some of the mud on his shoulder in revelation. He watched the beast leap away through the rocks.

“He couldn’t see me...”

\---

Dutch took in the nature before him, ready to put his skills as a survivalist soldier to use as he climbed the leafy hill. He walked up through a narrow crevice that the rocks had made, along with a few roots crossing over. He looked up at the gigantic plants before him. Dutch knew he had to meet the enemy on his own grounds, or should he say, trees. He looked back at the crevice and devised a plan.

He made spikes out of sharpened wood and tied them to the roots over the crevice with vines. He stuck his knife into the root and adjusted the other vines that would trigger his trap. His muscles rippled, cracking the dried mud still on his skin as he pulled the heavy log into suspension. He secured it with more sticks and vines, tucking it tightly between the rocks, so that he could cut it easily need be.

While Dutch made his preparations his Predator had its fill. He would have to be patient as he gave his prey time to make toys for them to play with. He yanked off the arm of his latest kill and let out a cry, reminding Dutch he was waiting, he was there.

He sprayed the bloody skull, to add to his collection later that night. This one put up a fight at least, he would wear it in honour of that. The skulls of pansies would just get tossed, he would not wear or keep a sake of any coward.

Dutch made a fire in the tree, using the light to craft his latest weapon and for warmth. Not that he needed it. His blood was boiling with the heat of his fallen comrades. He shot an experimental arrow at a tree. He’d spent ages bending the stick for the bow, displaying his strength to the dark forest. He had a few capsules, useless, but the gunpowder inside, very useful.

The Predator checked his stash of trophies that he acquired in the short while on this planet. He picked up a human skull and with a sharp nail ran it over the forehead, reminiscing on his newest prey. Humans were the most interesting creatures he met so far. They were crafty, nifty much like his own kind, but behind in technology and incomparable in strength.

The soldier spread mud on his cheeks military style with a hard look of determination. He was curious though, what had he drank and why did that thing feed it to him? How did it fix all of his wounds? What was it planning? Why was it here? Was it just fixing him to toy with him? What was it even? What was _he_.

How he even knew what gender it was, there was no evidence but that which lies in all alpha males. An impenetrable dominant air that declared itself ruler and patriarch. Dutch saw himself as an alpha, about to face the challenge of another alpha. But Dutch was soon to find out that he was oh so wrong.

He stepped out into the night making sure he was completely covered in the mud that also made him invisible. He looked up at the full moon knowing the tables have turned. Dutch lit his torch and lifted it proudly, letting out his own war cry in reply, reminding it he was coming, he was there.

The Predator hears it and is filled with excitement, the only sign being a sudden jerk of the head. He would have to be calm, not to rush things, he had to build up a momentum of suspense so that he could thoroughly enjoy the climax.

The thrill of the hunt.

Dutch stood on the makeshift bridge of a fallen vine covered tree and threw his torch down, igniting the dead plant life underneath. He ran back and up a largely rooted tree, to await his Predator.

The soldier remained determined as he hugged himself into the tree. He heard the susurration of the leaves right next to him and knew that He was there. In the corner of his eye he caught that blurry see through chameleon. He swung on a vine into another tree and hugged it immediately. He moved out of fear mostly, that presence was terribly overbearing, it called for submissiveness but Dutch would resist. The alien heard the movement but he would play hide and seek a little while longer. Albeit his patience was wearing thin.  
  
He stood on the bridge that his prey had set a fire under, wondering what the human was up to. Dutch readied his bow and shot, it hit the area right in front of the Predator, exploding, making it let out a startled unearthly sound. Needless to say he was surprised and wasn’t pleased. Playing dirty was not in his agenda but he did admire the creativity and cleverness. He had to remember humans weren’t very strong in comparison to many other creatures, they had their brain to rely on, not so much brute. But He’d be darned if he could have both.

He fired shots randomly, nothing harmful. They were a sort of firework, only for flashy display. But he planned on herding his prey out and closer to him.

Sparks sprinkled down all over and on Dutch, filling the darkness with momentary flashes of light. The man jumped out of the tree of which most of the shots were being fired at, not knowing their true nature. He ran as more shots were fired at him, all missing on purpose. He leaned on a large rock for a moment, his jump did more damage than he anticipated and his mouth filled with the familiar taste of that metallic crimson. Knowing it was bad to stay in one place for too long he ran, around to the bridge. At the same time the Predator leaped down onto it. Dutch was paralysed for a moment.

The Predator stalked across the bridge, each slow step more antagonizing than the last. Dutch’s muscles hurt everywhere but he held onto those vines on the underside of the tree like a lifeline. He could have sworn that his prey was right there but he would let the games continue. He wanted to see what else was in store. After what seemed like ages the footsteps were out of earshot.

Dutch gathered his gunpowder wrapped spear and sneaked. Picking up a rock he threw it at a tree a few distances away. Knowing it was just a rock the Predator fired for show. He would entertain this for a little while more. Rule of war, never let your enemy know your strength or smart, and in this case, your prey. A spear was thrown and he shot at it as well, but what also unexpected was the other one.

Hearing the cry Dutch sneaked through the bushes, closer, grasping his dangerous looking forest made spear. He didn’t see his target anywhere but he did see the trails of its luminescent green blood.

“Bleeding bastard...”

He followed the glow into a rocky hollow. He heard the blood dripping real-time behind him. He lit the match as inconspicuously as he could and as it exploded his makeshift weapon he ran for it, ignoring the yell that was definitely one of annoyance.

Dutch leaped and grabbed a branch which was shot, sending him splashing into the water below. He swam and crawled out, the mud no longer his armour. Seeing nothing and filling with false relief he lifted his head. Two sharp blades were then on the sides of his neck, pinning him against the log. He turned his head without a sound.

The Predator had about enough now. He wasn’t planning on taking all these injuries from this clever vermin. He retracted his weapon and picked Dutch up by his waist. He was going to asses the physicalities now, not that he really needed to, just wanted to. He held the human against the tree with one hand pressed onto his collarbone, pinning Dutch in place and using his large foot to prop him up between the legs. His prey was badly injured now. He didn’t like that. Leaning in close, he held the earthling by his chin with his other hand, tilting his head side to side. A strong face was good, a good jaw too, he also assessed for any further damages to the face, Not that it mattered when it came to disfigurement. He had no idea what good-looking was anyhow. Face didn’t matter to his own kind, they found beauty in other ways. Of which this creature was definitely beautiful. He dropped Dutch and stepped back, it was only fair he be assessed as well. Not that he needed it either, he was unsurpassable to every being he’s met so far.

Dutch watched with confusion as the large being removed two small wires one by one from its helmet, that let out a quick whoosh of steam. He reached back and dropped his weapon on the ground, as a sign of meaning no harm but of which Dutch interpreted as a classic physical pre-brawl action. The mask was removed to reveal a horribly grotesque face with eyes that were terribly human-like. The forehead was deeply furrowed and at a naturally angry angle. There were four fangs, two upwards like overgrown bottom row teeth and two outer ones facing inwards, like they were pointing at the other fangs. The cheeks they were attached to were sunken in the middle, giving the entire shape somewhat like a bow. A cringe inducing evil-alien bow. The whole thing could be opened in the middle apparently as it flexed and stared at him, showing the small upper and lower jaw inside, the teeth there being equally pointy and sharp.

The alien closed in on him slowly, As it was right in front of him he swung the branch he was holding. It was easily snapped like it had been a twig.

“Bad idea...”

The predator was a bit pissed at that, maybe could test out his combat skills first...lessons needed to be taught.

He pressed against Dutch into the tree, not exactly enjoying the terrified expression. He ran a hand down his side. Maybe combat could wait. Dutch’s knees gave out and he sank down. The Predator had to step back to see what just happened, due to the height difference. Dutch took this opportunity to crawl away as quickly as he could. The extraterrestrial was stricken for a moment before catching himself. He hurried over and grabbed Dutch’s leg. The man turned around with a swing and some sharp object, attempting to cut into his face. In vexation he flipped Dutch who tumbled over the other side of a large root, and using the distance ran for it.

The Predator ran right behind, grabbing at him and breaking branches all the while. This was not supposed to be so difficult, But then again, all the better. With a successful grab he landed Dutch onto the ground. He loomed above him, watching with interest as the earthling tried to crawl away. Dutch managed to reach his crevice and crawl inside. The alien stooped and watched his target.

“Come on, come on.” Dutch instigated, “Do it!” To him he was just encouraging the thing to kill him, did it not want to? He watched it snarl at him and lean but not before noticing the sharp edges of the make shift trap. Typical, he should have known. He walked over to the other side ignoring Dutch’s yelling and hopped down. The Predator just wanted to reap his spoils that was this clever thing.

Dutch kicked the stick and the log came falling down on top of him. Perhaps too clever?

The man leaned his head to the side in relief that it was finally over. He turned hearing the log move. Of course not. He got up, picked up a large rock and lifted it above his head, but he could not find it within himself to kill this pitiful bleeding creature.

He tossed it, “What the hell are you...?”

This whole situation was funny now. Perplexed by this human he could only find himself asking that same question, the unfamiliar language strange on his tongue, _“What...the hell...are you?”_

It really hurt, that log. He was bleeding alot but nothing major done. He’d had about enough. Opening his wrist gadget he inserted a few codes and called the mothership. In a matter of second a bright light came from above and blinded Dutch. The Predator rested his head back and closed his eyes,

His mate was fun.


	2. A Hungry Predator

Dutch blinked his eyes open. Too bright, white lights shined above him, making his eyes water. He squinted and blinked repeatedly. There was a familiar clinking of metals to the right, just like at one of his many hospital visits. He turned his head and saw a large back with long thick quills cascading down it, much like the alien he killed the other d- wait what? The creature turned, its face covered with a white mask. For some reason Dutch closed his eyes again, pretending to still be asleep. The mandibles on this one were far too long and the colour wasn’t quite right, it looked aged. The doctor-predator walked up to him, ghosting its fingers over his skin, distracted, like it was trying to figure out a tough maths question.

It turned Dutch’s limbs, angling them to look underneath, inspecting as if too see all was right. It turned back to its work station and picked up a needle filled with a sickly pink liquid. This time Dutch did not pretend to be asleep and tried to pull away, not getting very far as he was strapped down. The doctor looked surprised rather than angry and strode across the room, pressing a button and speaking into some intercom system in a screeching and grunting inhuman language.

Then there he was, the Predator, walking purposely through sliding doors. He was larger than the doctor, more dominant, more everything. He was wearing different armour than before, it was regal and official looking. He was just finishing adjusting the straps on his arm as they made eye contact, replaying a long tale only they shared. He was hurriedly unstrapped from the table by the doctor but he couldn’t find the nerve to move. Let’s say he did manage to grab a tool and kill them, then what? There were more of these things, how many, he didn’t want to know. Where he was, he didn’t want to know either. Why he was here though, was the big question.

He was scooped up bridal style and was about to be carried out before the doctor put a hand on the Predator’s shoulder and handed him the needle. He shook his head and continued. They stepped out into a large hallway, its walls’ texture seemed eerily close to skin, it featured strange hieroglyphics in brown, highlighted behind by a bright orange. Endless pipes of various sizes ran down the roof. Looking at his body he saw he was naked, well except for a tight pair of white underwear made of some unusual material.

Dutch was calmly carried down the hallway, left, right, all about, each turn looking as same as the last. He could only think to himself that he was going to be eaten, ripped apart just like a thanksgiving turkey. He felt the irony and made a vow to himself that if by some miracle he lived, he was going vegetarian.

Finally appeared a pair of doors on their latest turn. It was guarded by two more Predators, as small as the doctor. Were working ones just all smaller, or was this one carrying him bigger? The doors opened automatically and he peered over the Predator’s shoulder watching the guards take their leave as it closed. He was dropped on a bed, bouncing on its softness. Dutch crawled back ever so slightly, never taking his eyes off the casual alien, who was removing his armour nonchalantly. Dutch declared it safe to move his eyes elsewhere and take in his surroundings. It was a large room, a bedroom. Everything had a strange shape, colour and texture. The only thing he could objectively recognise was the bed he was on and a large monitor to the left, with the set-up like something out of star trek. He turned to the right and saw a long oval window, it was dark and full of stars. Where was he?

The Predator wanted to get straight to business with his catch but decided it was best to start off slowly and explain things. Luckily he didn’t have to find where to begin as Dutch spoke.

“Where am I?” He glared, “What do you want with me? Why am I here!?”

The alien gestured to the window with an upturned palm. Dutch, not removing his eyes off the beast creeped off the bed. He slowly walked over to the window and arched his neck to look outside. He’d seen the starry night from the bed but being closer it didn’t end. No ground or trees or clouds, just stars. His brain shut off and he sank to his knees in disbelief. No way in hell...or space. He shot back up quickly to check that it wasn’t his eyes deceiving him and his heart shot into his throat upon spotting a green and blue circle, the size of a marble.

His palms pressed against the glass, "W-what is that!?” He choked, fixated on the floating sphere, not caring about his back being turned to the Predator.

He almost jumped hearing the raspy, deep voice right behind him, “N’ithya.”

“Ni-what?” He turned to look at the hideous face over his shoulder, it didn’t seem as ugly as before once he got used to seeing it. He wondered if he was ugly to it too.

_“Earth.”_

“Earth!? As in...oh God...” His feet gave out again and he sat on the floor. His original goal upon awakening was to kill and avenge his fallen comrades: the debate to kill this one and be killed, or wait and try to take out as many as he could and then be killed. But now he had to figure out how to even get back home. A task that was surely impossible. Didn’t the protagonist always find a way? But this was no movie.

The Predator watched him on the ground for a moment before walking over to the bed and sitting. Dutch lifted his chin and followed his actions closely. _“Come...here...”_

Dutch jumped to his feet, “Why the hell would I listen to you!?” He half ran to the door but it wouldn’t budge. He pushed and pulled it using the crevices in its design, “After you killed all my men...you...you..!” You what?

“Yautja.” He said, answering the question asked back on earth. Dutch stopped his actions and turned.

A what? “Yatcha?”

Close enough. He patted the spot next to him on the bed. Dutch gave quick elevator eyes but cautiously stepped over anyhow and sat as far away as he could. The alien scooted over anyway. _“Human.”_ He poked Dutch gently on the chest. He then pointed to himself, “Yautja.”

“Yacht...jah.” He enunciated.

“Ooman. Yautja.”

“Ooman.” He furrowed his brows. Must mean human he deducted. “What am I doing here?”

_“Mate.”_

Sorry what? “Tell me that’s a word in your yacha language...” He groaned. The hand pushed him back onto the mattress. “W-wait!” The Predator paused, “Why!?”

He looked up and thought for a moment, sifting through his lengthy list of reasons. The first thing was his thermal vision, this one had been different from the rest and he instantly declared the human his to keep. Something was definitely alien about this human, whether he be actually alien or not he had something out of his world in his blood. Something he never encountered before. Maybe due to some accident, overlooked by the Engineers. Whatever it was, it would be his, and his offspring’s.

 _“Strong.”_ He said finally. _“Very...smart...clever...”_ Almost being killed by his mate-to-be was mightily invigorating. He went to continue his actions, Dutch stopped the hand again.

“But...why did you kill them!?” He wanted that at least.

The Predator thought that was fairly obvious. _“I am...hunter_. Kv’var-de.”

Kv’var-de. A switch clicked in Dutch’s brain, pondering back to those poor thanksgiving turkeys. They were game, just game. Humans hunted in the same way, killing other species without compassion or thought that they too might have feelings and memories or friends and families who would love and miss them. In their world they were at the top of the food chain but when the hunters became the hunted it created a chaotic tilt in their minds.

“What...who are you?” To be honest Dutch couldn’t care any less but this one was different from the others he had seen. He also needed to stall for a plan. Did he mistake the alpha male dominance for that of a queen of some sort? Sickening was the thought.

 _“I am..._ Kevaya.” That wasn’t much to go on in terms of what he wanted to find out. Kevaya almost thought himself rude. He gripped the human’s chin, _“You precious...?”_

“Dutch...” He breathed. His real name withdrawn until he would one day avenge his soldiers.

 _“Dutch...”_ Kevaya repeated in quiet, engraving the name into his being forever. “Deuvsk.” Came the translation. There was a moment as said man was trying to figure out what else he could do and as the creature above him reminisced. Snapping his head like he was coming out of a trance he peered down at his human.

Dutch’s every instinct told him to fight except for survival. Where would he go, what would he do? He didn’t have the faintest idea how to operate a spaceship.

His face was held in place with those firm yet gentle fingers as Kevaya leaned down. He was helpless as the grotesque face opened and engulfed his own mouth. Something soft and slick with a rough texture wiggled into his mouth. An alien tongue. It wriggled around exploring and making gross slurping sounds between them. Dutch’s chest heaved like he was undergoing a pneumatic attack. He tried to break free but he was pinned down completely by the heavy Predator. The only achievable movement was being able to arch his abdomen every which way in defiance.

He thought about biting it for a moment, that wouldn’t do him any good seeing his current situation. If he liked himself he would behave while in the arms of his captor. There was something on the end of the tongue, it felt like a small ball. It was pushed to the back of his throat. He gagged immediately. Kevaya pulled away.

Well that way wouldn’t work. The cylindrical tongue peeked out of his mouth and he took the little white ball from it’s tiny tendrils’ grasp. Dutch held onto the hand on his chest, trying to futilely pull it off and free himself. Kevaya paid him no mind and looked him over, thinking of a solution.

Dutch was flipped over suddenly onto his stomach. Before he could register, the underpants were pulled off. A too large finger was inserted into his behind. He thrashed about and swore profusely. The finger curled as Kevaya tried to hold him down with the one free hand. He gave back his tongue the ball to hold and proceeded to discipline his resisting mate.

He pulled Dutch up and into a tight sixty nine, with the man upside down, a thigh on each side of his head. The size difference was too large for Dutch to reach the Predator’s goods, or to damage them through the armoured pants anyhow. The round object was pressed against his anus, a little smaller than a golf ball. He froze in realisation. It was slicked with saliva so that made it much easier to be pushed in. It was halfway in when Dutch unfroze and cried out kicking awkwardly. With a thigh on each of Kevaya’s shoulders there wasn’t much he could do. He tensed and saw stars as it was shoved in completely, pounding his fists against the Predator’s legs in pain. The hold slackened on him and he flailed, falling further down the huge body as Kevaya almost dropped him. He used the new position to kick him in the face as hard as he could.

Dutch was grabbed by the assaulting leg and flung back onto the bed. He rolled over and slid to the floor, furiously trying to take out the object. The predator huffed and they made eye contact. He strode out the door and Dutch watched him go, slowing down his movements of trying to pull out the thing with a finger. He sat up no longer feeling it stretching his intestines. It was soft and malleable like Plasticine once inside. It felt like this to nothing within a matter of seconds like it had traveled into another part if his body.

He had no time to decipher whether it had dissolved or been absorbed as The automatic doors opened again, the Predator pushing one side hastily; if he could have slammed it, he would’ve. Dutch shrunk into the bedside to get as far away from the mad alien, seeing the pink syringe. Although _he_ was now the alien.

He was pulled up by an arm and thrown on the bed. There was much resistance but to no avail. The Predator put a hand between Dutch’s shoulder blades and held the wriggling human in place. Kevaya wasted no time in sticking the needle in a butt cheek. Dutch made a grunted cry, trying to kick and stop the other but it didn’t prevent him from pushing the syringe’s contents into him completely.

Kevaya threw the empty needle to the side and felt a bit bad. Only a bit. Dutch ceased his movements as he suddenly felt woozy, his vision blurred and he began to sweat. His captor peered down at him for a moment before exiting. Patience was essential with his prey.

Dutch slid onto the floor again. His blood was pumping but he could barely move. He dragged himself over to the door but it wouldn’t open as he expected. Was he not heavy enough or something? He lay there, his condition worsening, of heavy limbs and unfocused vision. His member felt the most of it, as he sported an induced erection from what was probably an aphrodisiac.

Dutch lay there for ages, or what felt like ages, he had no idea of time now anyhow. He refused to touch himself, or couldn’t touch himself. He’d been stubborn in the beginning and now just brushing it with a finger hurt like hell. He shut his eyes tightly to block out the spinning world and to hopefully wake up from a bad dream. His sex drive was off the charts and he needed relief. Forget vengeance, he’d just find a way to get outside and suffocate in space to end it all. His hand drearily reached out once and tapped the door in a otiose attempt for it to open. And it did.

Kevaya stood above him, shirtless as before, the green muscular chest gleaming, tinted by the dull orange lighting from the walls. Dutch looked up, seeing the face in the focused centre of his blurred eyesight. His blink was long and slow; one moment he was on the floor and the next back on the bed. He lay there spread eagle without resistance as the Predator climbed on and settled between his legs. The armour over his groin was ripped off and standing gloriously was the large alien penis.

It was smooth surprisingly and had a mushroom shaped tip, though slightly pointier than that of a human. There were four slits on said tip leading up to the urethra, giving it a flower like shape (that could probably open up to reveal some horror he did not want to see). Then -oh god it moved. It was barely noticeable but it definitely moved. It wriggled like a snake, Dutch swore it did.

He was pulled up by his thighs so the snake dick could prod against his entrance. Feeling a panic he couldn’t react upon, he jumped as the monitor came on with loud static, interrupting them.

Kevaya was not pleased.


	3. To Feed A Predator

A masked face appeared on the screen. It looked somewhat embarrassed by the sudden change in body language. It muttered something and cut off the call. A piece of paper was ejected from a slot.

“R’ka...” Kevaya muttered before returning his attention to Dutch. That could wait, the rest of the universe was on pause right now.

The soldier grimaced as a finger slipped inside him again, pumping and feeling around briefly. He closed his eyes, relaxing as the finger pulled out and he was empty again. Another one prodded at his entrance but this time it made his body strikingly awaken for a second; arching his back off the bed and his mouth opening in a silent scream. His vision went white as the head was pushed inside. He fell back with a thud onto the mattress, breathing heavily.

It was only hours ago he was in the jungle shooting guns and making booby traps to presently being completely emasculated in space by this extraterrestrial. It was so surreal that he almost believed it was just a bad dream. But no dream hurt, especially not like this.

“Son of a...” Dutch managed a few hoarse words. He wasn’t going to be demoted into some alien’s “bitch...”

Kevaya paused his movements seeing the distress it caused. Feeling Dutch loosen up he continued pushing. It slipped in quite easily. It was wet and slick and Dutch didn’t want to know how but he was internally grateful that it was. Physically and figuratively. Once the too large penis was all the way in it felt really weird. Turkeys were at least dead before they were stuffed.

Inside of his mate felt abysmal. It had seemed impossibly small at first but he somehow fit and it was so very warm and tight! And a pearl no less, which made it all the better.*

The Predator rocked gently, not really thrusting in or out, just rocking back and forth, letting his mate adjust to the feeling of him. Dutch grunted with each rock as he was expanded beyond lengths. It didn’t feel so bad anymore but he felt kind of spread. Not from the obvious but probably from the injection, loosening up the muscles of his un-penetrated insides beforehand.

When the pain unnaturally subsided he felt the thick member inside of him brushing against something that felt incredibly good. His sexual deprivation called for more of it and he rocked along with Kevaya. The Predator, noticing the awaited change, re-positioned himself. He put his hands on either side of Dutch’s head and hovered over him. Dutch’s legs were bent almost into his chest and the Predator’s legs were on either side of his body.

He pulled out to the tip and gave one good experimental thrust. Dutch moaned as it hit the spot directly on, his cock twitched, being stimulated without being touched. This new angle of sexual activity felt better than he thought it would, and perhaps even better than the usual penile stimulation. Kevaya started off with a slow antagonizing pace that made Dutch beg for more in a barely inaudible whisper. Of course, the Predator would give his prey what he wanted and went faster. He only pulled out halfway as he quickened up the pace, the obscene sound of groin smacking against ass heightened their arousal.

Dutch only wanted more and he didn’t care; faster, deeper, sideways, anyway as long as he could feel that magnificent pleasure. He bit into his lip, digging his fingertips into Kevaya’s waist as he came, rocking his hips vigorously.

“Fuh...” He moaned arching his head back, overwhelmed by this new kind of orgasm. The grunting and clicking noise of the Predator was admittedly kind of hot. Then again everything seemed kind of hot in in sexual trance, even that...weird lamp thing on the bed stand.

Kevaya paused, balls deep, as Dutch came onto his own chest. He was by no way going limp anytime soon though, and neither was he.

...

Dutch’s face was buried into the sheets, his arms parallel and lifeless at his sides. He was on his knees, butt in the air, like he was waking up but refused to get out of bed. His body was rocking and he turned his face to the side to breathe. He made a particularly loud moan as Kevaya hit his sweet spot, hard. The big hands gently gripped his sides, pulling him back slightly to meet the firm body that was thrusting at a steady pace. Dutch shamelessly moaned the entire time. As his noises became louder Kevaya went faster, grunting and breathing heavily. Dutch came for what was about the fifth time during their love-making. He wasn’t too sure about the exact number, but he was covered in it, from being tossed around into various positions in the same spot.

As Dutch came with a cry he straightened out his body on reflex, grabbing at the covers. He went flat onto his stomach. Kevaya held the back of his neck and ground into him in a libidinous manner, before crying out himself in that inhuman tone. The body above Dutch was rigid as the Predator climaxed. He let himself be held in place as he was filled with the warm semen. A whole good five seconds before he was flopped onto.

The moment was quiet and, dare say, even intimate. In contrast to the noisy erotic sex they just had. After a few moments Kevaya pulled out and rolled over. Mating was better than he could have ever imagined, better than the stories he thought were overrated. He sought this desire after hunting became boring, but even hunting before, came nowhere near this bliss. It felt amazing to share his soul, magnificent mighty soul, with another being in a bout of astounding pleasure. So maybe it wasn’t overrated.

Dutch didn’t move when Kevaya climbed off him. His guilt and shame only returning when his mad lust faded away. He just had sex, incredible sex, that he enjoyed, with an alien, the same one who killed his best friend Dillon and his men. Was this what betrayal felt like? They would understand wouldn’t they? It’s not like he waltzed onto the ship of his own volition. He was kidnapped and drugged and...he enjoyed some things that were only natural. Then again, is sex with a large man-beast from another planet natural? What is natural even? Now he was thinking too much.

His thoughts were disturbed as his ass was patted two times before the bed dipped next to him and he was pulled underneath the body into a spooning embrace. He didn’t move, overwhelmed by guilt, his lips pressed into a thin line as he was nuzzled like a teddy bear. A hand went between his legs, feeling him up, as if his genitals were a new discovery.  
  
Two fingers pressed against his testicles then fondled them, lifting them and feeling the space behind, searching. It felt kind of nice but he refused to like it. Not that it mattered anyhow. Kevaya got out of bed after his little inspection and Dutch continued to stare into space. He made no reaction as the cum dripped out and down on his inner thigh. He had no curiosity to see it’s colour. A cover was heaved onto him and at the sound of doors opening moments after, he was luckily afflicted with drowsiness again, the natural sleepy kind.

...

  
Kevaya strutted happily down the hallway, stopping at a door-less room. It was guarded by a row of blue lasers, that was filled with various beasts. The hoard of creatures collected from various planets by his men as prizes, mates or just play things. Some had collars, some didn’t, either way they couldn’t go anywhere without permission. He wondered if his own mate would like to meet them.

Right now though he had bigger things to worry about. His subordinate that interrupted him earlier had said they’ll take care of it but telling by the commotion nearby they clearly couldn’t subdue the escaped Xenomorph queen. Most of the faces looked at him terrified, or what he assumed were faces...

* * *

Dutch awoke alone, he wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep but he felt well rested. Upon awakening the hope of it being all a dream had gone, leaving only turmoil. It had all been too real, no use being let down by false hopes over and over. With the sheet wrapped comfortingly around him he got up. He was sore, Kevaya had been excessive, even for an alien, even Dutch could tell. He walked over to the window on the other side of the room and peered out. He could see the front of the ship, it was massive. If there was more ship on top he couldn't tell but what he could tell was that he’d never seen any human structure this big. Leaning onto the glass he tried to see the other sides, more rooms went along either side of where he was to curve and extend on either side in a collective U shape.

He saw a tiny planet in the distance and felt queasy, so he stepped away. He was in need of a shower, a really good one. He was sticky with sperm and sweat. The smell of sex. He reddened involuntarily as he reflected on his earlier behaviour. He spun in defiance and looked around. There were a smaller pair of doors on the other side. Maybe this one would open, it did. He stepped slowly into a tall, narrow hallway, the hieroglyphs more distinct and the orange brighter. He walked down and entered an opening. It was a circular room and in the walls were skeletons. Skulls to be precise, many, many skulls of all sorts of beings. Some looked prehistoric while some looked plain frightening and horrific. In the center at his level was a human skull. It looked so pathetic amongst the other monstrous alien bones.

He touched the wall unconsciously, it felt like glass but it wasn’t reflective or shiny. Strange, just like everything else on the ship. He wondered if Kevaya had killed all of these, by himself. The roof was high, an extensive collection it seemed. Of all these why did he get picked? The most pathetic of the bunch. Dutch knew not the spectacular things that were humans, and unlike all those beasts, they were essentially the hardest to kill. Most of these were feral, but humans, humans were on another level, they were intelligent and creative. Just like Dutch, who had a little something extra, that he wasn’t even aware of himself.

Dutch didn’t hear the pair of footsteps that approached him as he took in Kevaya’s trophies. He turned quickly and held the sheet tighter to him. Fortunately, it was the Predator he’d made love with and another one that he did not, thankfully. It wore a half mask, covering the unsightly mouth, and was peculiarly small, about his height, give a few. It didn’t have the freckles or angry forehead or crown on his head like Kevaya did.

He was approached by the taller. A hand held the back of his head, pulling him close to press their foreheads together briefly. He looked up as they parted, trying to find the grotesque hideousness he saw once before and couldn’t. He wondered if it was the effect of one of the things he’d had forcibly put into his body earlier. Kevaya took the staring as a loving gesture and held Dutch by the chin, rubbing his thumb on a cheek. The Predator put a hand around his shoulders and turned him to face the other Yautja.

“Deuvsk _...this is.._.M’itha.”

A gloved hand extended, “Hello, nice to meet you!” The voice wasn’t deep or grumbling like the others, it was soft and male and comfortingly human. Dutch looked perplexed. Seeing the look M’itha proceeded to explain. “I will be your companion for the next few days, teaching you the basics and some things about your new home and such. On earth, I’d be called a name like ‘cultural advisor’ yeah? I specialize in studying other species. So you know, humans have been my favourite so far.” He waved an index finger at that. “English and Chinese are all I learned so far though.”

Dutch didn’t know what to say so he just shook the hand. “Yeah...”

“I hope we’ll be getting along well.” He said cheerfully.

Kevaya, satisfied went to leave but the human grabbed his arm, stopping him. With an eye on the cheerful M’itha he leaned and told him about his...predicament. Kevaya looked him over, naked in the sheet and almost smacked himself. He excused them with some words to the smaller Yautja, who nodded.

Cum had run down his leg and Dutch did not miss the quick glance from the smaller predator that spotted it. He was escorted out and led to another door, that had previously been inconspicuous; it blended into the wall without a line. The bathroom was oddly human-like, materials were still strange though. He dropped the sheet and went into the shower, excited upon spotting it. He stepped in and pulled the dark curtain across.

To his amusement the taps were coded in colours. He turned on the hot water and let it run down his face and body, washing away all the grime. It could not wash away though, his guilty conscience and dirtied soul. He had a probably not well deserved warm shower with some sweet smelling salts that eased his muscles.

He stepped out, wondering about a towel for a moment to see the Predator standing there, holding one open. Dutch stepped close to take it, making sure to be careful but Kevaya stepped over as well and wrapped it around him. He was held in the embrace for a moment before being let go and handed some folded clothes.

Kevaya let him get dressed in peace. He looked down at the neutral coloured baggy trousers and long sleeved tunic with hanging sleeves, just as loose fitting, like pajamas. He went back out into the bedroom, tying the strings he had by his collarbone. He walked over to them carefully. Kevaya caressed his cheek before taking his leave.

M’itha spoke first, killing the awkward silence,“So, let’s get started shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Pearl = Virgin.


	4. To Be A Predator

M'itha just couldn't stop talking. Just talk talk talking. Dutch was annoyed out of his mind. He'd zoned out at some point, staring into nothingness with the chatterbox being dimmed down to a murmur in the background of his mind. This was unarguably the worst punishment of everything he had been through. He could just shoot his other problems. What did he do to deserve this?

 _'Kill me now.'_ He thought, with the strongest urge to bang his head repeatedly into the wall.

"So, what are your feelings on that?"

Dutch turned back, "What...?" This was a bad time to re-tune into conversation.

"Law 58 of the administrative council."

Dutch squinted in confusion, "Listen." He started, "I don't give a single shit about your stupid alien politics." He sat up straight. "Get me out of here."

M'itha sighed and closed the book. "Look. I know this is all new and everything but even if I wanted to help you, there's nothing I can do." His brown eyes were sympathetic, "Plus you know, legalities of getting involved with general affairs and whatnot..." He murmured with a head tilt.. Seeing Dutch's downtrodden face he added quickly, "But but I can get you anything else you need. Any questions you want answered. Something simple maybe?"

Something simple sounded good in all this complicated mess, "Why do you...sound so different from the others?"

M'irha chuckled, "Oh that? This is a kind of voice editor, I figured you would be more comfortable speaking to me if I sounded more like your kind." It was also comfortable not seeing that nightmare of a  _mouth_. "Change can be scary."

Correction, it was terrifying. "Where are we going?"

M'itha blinked, "To our planet...you can call it...Yautja prime."

"To stay there?"

"Well yes, that's the intention."

"Oh god..."

"You should consider yourself lucky, none ever get this kind of treatment."

"Lucky!?" Dutch seethed, "You f-" He decided it was best not to argue. "Are you sure there's no way you can get me back home?"

"Well, I suppose but then I'll be dead. And I don't...want to be dead. You know?"

Dutch huffed. He supposed. "Whatever."

"But your new home is going to be very nice."

Dutch didn't reply, only squinted in aggravation. This man was useless to him now if he couldn't help.

"Being the wife of a Leader General is a huge honour. You'll get grade A treat-"

"Wife!?" He was a man first of all. His life was definitely going downhill.

"Yes...I think so. You rather me use another word? Has he not mated with you yet?" He was sure he smelt dai-shui.* He saw Dutch's mortified expression, "I suppose not. Nevermind. You don't have to tell me anything...!" He put up his hands defensively.

Dutch pursed his lips. Maybe he could just kill M'itha, gut him, and wear his skin. Then find a way out but the only thing stopping him was the inability to speak their language. Such tough decisions.

M'itha spotted the deadly look and stood off the floor. "Are you hungry perhaps? I could give you a little intro on our cuisine."

Dutch put a hand on his belly. When was the last time he ate? Now that he brought his mind back into the real world he felt a painful hunger that had probably been ignored there for a while. He nodded, he'd possibly be more confident to kill something on a full belly. Dutch followed M'itha out of the trophy room and around the ship.

After walking for a while the small Yautja pushed open a pair of doors. "This is the kitchen." These things were civilised enough to have a kitchen? Hopefully earth's food and their food was similar. Dutch followed him in. It wasn't.

There were two other predators hacking away at large cuts of meat in what looked like a butchery rather than a kitchen. The odd number of limbs and tentacles these things had made Dutch queasy. The black clad masked butchers ignored the pair as they waltzed into the far corner. On the counter was a pile of fruits, veggies and another small pile of meats, all from sweet planet earth.

"This here is a selection of comestibles from your home planet. To last until we get home." M'itha looked at him, "Leader General Kevaya thought you would li- _prefer_ some of your own food. You are an omnivore, yes?" Dutch just eyed the food. "Well, don't let me stop you, go ahead." He said cheerily, gesturing.

Dutch didn't waste a split second grabbing up a bunch of he didn't care what and sitting at the small dark wooden table. It was only after ravaging some poor vegetables that he slowed down, seeing M'itha staring quite concernedly. He offered a carrot that he had eaten half of.

M'itha kindly declined, "We're carnivores."

Dutch furrowed his brows, biting into his carrot, "Then why do you have a kitchen?" He used the term loosely.

"That doesn't mean we don't like to cook the meat, silly." M'itha shook his head quickly, with an elongated blink. "Well...I do at least..."

Dutch spoke with his mouth full, "What do you mean?"

"We're built to eat it raw but I prefer to cook it. Being civilised is relative and all but we could at least try to have a sense of finesse. I think we should break away from all this savagery but...who's to listen to a lowlife like me?"

"But you're a cultural advisor, how's that make you a lowlife?" Dutch inspected the raw fowl, contemplating his previous will of going vegetarian and or eating it raw.

M'itha suddenly burst out, planting his palms onto the table then upturning them in defeat, "I'm useless!" He leaned onto his elbows, "I couldn't even kill the _R'ka_ in my initiation. They only keep me around because I've got some book smarts...and an unhealthy obsession with the rest of the universe..."

Dutch actually felt sympathetic, but first thing first, "What's a Rikka?"

"It's a...um, Xenomorph. A creature we breed for killing to initiate into adulthood in this ridiculous barbaric ritual." He explained quickly with a dismissive wave.

"I don't think you're useless." He bit onto an apple, "You'd be very valuable, back on earth."

"Eheh, well they don't think so. I just don't belong here. You ever felt that?" He rested his chin on his palm, facing away, staring into space that probably showcased his hopes and dreams, "That you don't belong with your own kind?"

Dutch knew that feeling all too well, especially with his estranged childhood. But when he joined the forces, he fit in, he was looked up to, he was the best, he belonged. It was great, while it lasted...

"Yes."

M'itha turned to face him, "Oh?"

"Maybe you just haven't found a place yet. There must be others like you."

"If you're useless you're killed. Not many get the opportunity I had."

That sombered up the moment. Dutch decided to change the topic by holding up the chicken, "I'm not built to eat raw, can I cook this?"

M'itha guffawed, "Yeah, of course."

The artificial voice was very soothing to listen to, once he actually warmed up to the alien. Plus he talked a lot so that was good. It was a nice moment, comforting, calm, surreal, cooking with M'itha. There were a lot of spices, unearthly ones but they smelled nice nonetheless. He couldn't remember all the crazy names so he just sniffed what smelled good and put it in the chicken, inciting a laugh from M'itha. Although, he was very informative on what would go good with the chicken, and the other meats he had. In the end he baked most of the poultry for preservation, giving the chicken a honey glaze. The honey came from this huge, ugly wasp looking bug from Yautja Prime that for some reason was preserved in a random jar of liquid in the cupboard.

He cringed when he saw it, so M'itha tried to make him touch it but he refused with utmost fervency. Specifically a 'fuck no.' Then M'itha tried to put it on him but he grabbed a knife. The Yautja then returned it to the jar reassuring and laughing. Dutch was not amused. Okay maybe a little.

Dutch stirred his big pot of vegetable stew while M'itha went through bottles of spices. "This smells great."

"It does."

"Try some then."

"I'm afraid I can't."

Dutch sniffed the steam, "Not even a little?"

"Fraid not. Unable to digest them. We use plants for seasoning but that's about as far as it goes. I wish I could though."

"Not even the sauce?"

M'itha looked warily into the pot, "Maybe later."

There came a stifled commotion from outside, causing the dedicated butchers to halt and lift their heads to the door. M'itha's eyes showed some worry. "Okay, we've taken long enough. Time to go back. Now, quickly." He grabbed Dutch by the arm.

"But my stew!"

M'itha practically dragged him back to the room in too long strides. He was smaller than the others but his legs were still longer than Dutch's. Once they were back M'itha quickly entered some sequences into the keypad by the door.

"Leader General will be back soon." He turned over his shoulder giving Dutch a glance.

He stopped the small Yautja from leaving, "What's happening?"

"The queen's escaped again."

"What?"

"The _R'ka_ queen." M'itha looked nervous. "You stay here."

"You're going to capture it?"

"Heavens no...but it's an all hands on deck kind of situation."

"But what are **you** gonna do?"

"I...I don't know."

"Are you scared?"

"Shaking in my boots, those things are ugly scary." Was there irony in this?

"Stay here then."

"Dutch, that's...kind of you. Thank you but I can't." He turned to leave once again.

Dutch didn't let go of his arm. "Alan. My name's Alan."

M'itha halted, "Alan." He repeated. He then turned back slowly to completely face the human."I promise I'll try and find you a way out of here." Alan. The first person to treat him like people. The doors slid open suddenly making M'itha jump. "Oh god."

He distanced himself from Dutch as Kevaya spoke in their tongue. M'itha was jittery as they spoke but the voice contorter made the syllables much smoother and easier to understand. Not that he could tell what they were saying anyway. He did catch the 'R'ka' In there a few times though. The conversation was short and the small Yautja kept his head bowed, maintaining no eye contact. M'itha went to leave in a hurry. Dutch called after him. While scurrying M'itha turned with a small hand gesture and feigned cheeriness.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He said. Dutch didn't want him to leave. He wanted M'itha to stay as long as possible. If it meant less 'play time' with the large sexual Predator,

He ignored Kevaya closing the gap between them. "What? When's that?" How was he supposed to tell time up in space? He didn't even know what time it was now. But M'itha was gone and the doors were closed.

 _"You...bed."_ Kevaya commanded, cupping Dutch's chin. He did **not** look happy. Dutch kept a stern stare as he backed into the bed. He sat on it with a thump and a slight frown. _"Lay down."_ Dutch plopped down onto his side, feet still hanging off the bed in a small symbol of defiance. _"Sleep."_ he ordered.

Dutch closed his eyes. He could tell he was annoying Kevaya. The Predator decided to whatever it for now and left. Dutch opened his eyes once he heard the doors shut. He needed to sneakily learn that key code somehow. He rolled over properly onto the bed. His rapid heartbeat from expecting Kevaya to make a move, was slowing down. He thought before that his life was over, he was done for. But now M'itha was a ray of hope. If he could deliver on his promise then that meant he could be saved. He now had a reason to keep living and fighting; with a possible way to get home, his home. He wiped his face with his hands. All he had depended on M'itha now, he would cling to this promise like a lifeline.

\---

Unluckily for Dutch Kevaya returned later. He was woken up by the doors. All the lights had noticeably dimmed and all was quiet, except for the soft hum on the ship. Dutch didn't make a move as the Predator undressed and unloaded. The bed dipped and creaked as he got in. Hopefully he would just got to sleep. This hope turned to be false.

Kevaya was on top of him in the next moment, faces inches apart. Dutch maintained his hard expression. His pants were pulled down as were his underwear. The erection rubbed against his lower stomach. Dutch would fight, he wasn't exactly sure how to in this exact situation but he'd try to do what he thought would help him. Like being expressionless and imperturbable. Kevaya did not falter in his actions as he spread his human's legs. He leaned and dipped two fingers in a bowl on the bed stand and lubricated his member. Dutch tried to stay composed but he couldn't help the small grimace as he was penetrated. It went in rather easy, unexpectedly. He would have to bear with all of this for now, those visions of home making it worth it, sort of.

Somehow, Dutch couldn't understand it, Kevaya managed to get him moaning into it again. _Without_ an aphrodisiac. Oh the guilt he would have after this. But right now in the moment, he didn't care about anything. This sex craze was like a drunkenness. You only felt the pain after coming down from your giddy high. The smacking of skin against skin seemed really loud in the quietness. Dutch's eyes rolled back into his head as he came close to the edge. His fingers dug into Kevaya's back but not so much to even leave a scratch on the hard skin.

As he was about to climax the Predator sat up, grabbed his waist and thrust hard. His back made an arch off the bed as he came with a cry, all over his own chest. Kevaya continued on Dutch for about a minute before filling him with his seed, then plopping onto him. He was sure as hell heavy and Dutch could tell that wasn't his full weight. In the moment he took a second to analyse, not admire, the little dark green freckles that adorned Kevaya's shoulders. The same kind he had all over, even sprinkling down to his...nether regions.

Kevaya didn't have to mate with him anymore for now because the sperm would live a whopping twelve days unlike the human seven (the exact time needed until Dutch's body would make the eggs). His kind, when it came to reproduction mated once, but seeing that defiant little face drove him mad. Plus he liked it. So he'd have a whole lot of it. A willing partner was the best aphrodisiac. He nuzzled his human lovingly. He'd have to work on that.

The unknown horror that Dutch would encounter at the end of that countdown was bound to shock him into insanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Yautja musk


	5. To Touch A Predator

Dutch awoke alone the next morning. After taking a shower he decided to snoop around a little bit while he waited for M’itha. There wasn’t much to find but he did stumble across a display case with some funky looking armour in the closet. It was securely locked away anyhow so he couldn’t nab it if he wanted. He found lots of tools here and there but didn’t have a clue what they were for so he rendered them useless, unless he wanted to crack somebody on the head. Which was an impossible feat with the dexterity and size of these extraterrestrials.

While checking out drawers in the window after confirming curiosity with the bowl of lube, his attention was caught by something bright. He stood and looked out the window, it was some kind of white star, that filled the room with blinding light as the ship passed closely to it. This was the first of many. He had to admit, it was beautiful and pretty cool. With his face near pressed into the glass he was knocked out of his admiration stupor with a loud bang as a rock hit the glass. More small rocks rained and eventually became bigger,causing him to jump with each hit. He stepped away from the window and the unpleasant meteor shower.

Never in a million years would he ever have imagined he would be seeing a live action meteor shower in space. It was a chance in no humans’ lifetime. Then again, he never imagined he’d be having sex with an alien in space either. Speaking of alien, M’itha entered the door holding a covered tray.

“Breakfast.” He said cheerily at Dutch’s curious expression.

He nodded. “Why are you bringing it?”

“Didn’t you hear the alarm?”

It must have went off during his meteor encounter. “No…”

“Ah but no worries. It just seems we encountered another ship is all. I may have to translate but I thought I’d just deliver this with all the commotion.” He set it down on the table.

Dutch was suspicious. “Mm.” What a perfect way of eluding responsibility. “What are you avoiding?” He picked up an apple and bit into it.

“Oh…” M’itha sounded defeated. “Those Pluratean bounty hunters are just _awful_!” His hands fell to his side. “They’re loud, smelly, rude, barbaric, and if you get one word wrong- just one- one little word, they want to chop everyone’s head off!”

So M’itha had some unfortunate translation incident.

Dutch chewed his bite slowly. Plotting some deviance in his head. “So-”

“Ah but there’s no escape for me.” he sighed. “I should get going. If it’s not one it’s the other.” He chuckled awkwardly.

Dutch did a quick lift of the chin in acknowledgement. He followed M’itha to the door, keeping off a few feet to not arouse suspicion. When the door opened and M’itha stepped out he muttered a quick, ‘Good luck.’ The small Yautja gave a small wave in return with a turn of the head.

He did it. He waited a few minutes, just standing there, waiting for the coast to clear but mostly out of nervous excitement. He dropped the apple and stepped up next to the door, his face inches away from the keypad. Licking his lips he pressed a button. Then another and another until he was sure he replicated the whole pattern. Nothing. He furrowed his brows at the pad and huffed. He punched the door in annoyance.

It opened. He looked down at his foot that had made it’s way in front of the door. “Oh…jus...”

He stealthily made his way around, not that there was much room for stealth in open hallways. It was empty anyway. He wasn’t too sure about where he was going or what he was going to do when he got there but he trekked on. He hid behind a large plant as he neared a door on the other side of the hall, with blue lasers lining the entry. Two Yautja came around the corner and he swerved backwards, pushing open an inconspicuous door and falling into some dark room. He stood up and walked to the lit area. He stepped to an opening where he was met with the most unsightly scene.

There was a huge, fat, worm-like creature. It had rings and layers of fat with stubby arms on each roll and two legs at the end that were far too human like for Dutch’s sake. It was like a swollen up millipede the colour of skin with no shell. The face was hideous, two deadpan eyes and a round mouth similar to a red lifebuoy, but wrinkled and pulsating. Right between the two small end legs was a Yautja thrusting fiercely into it, gross slapping noises and gurgling combined.

Dutch’s first instinct was to yelp in horror but then there was suddenly a hand over his mouth as he was yanked back around the corner and out of view. This was it. His time had ended. He struggled in futile against the larger figure until it shushed him. He ceased his fidgeting turned his eyes down at the hand. This particular gloved hand could only belong to one aristocratic extraterrestrial.

“What are you doing here?” M’itha hissed. Dutch would reply but obviously, he was prohibited at the moment. He peered around the corner once before leading Dutch out. “If he saw you…! He could have killed you, you know!”

Dutch shook free, “Kill me? Why!?”

“Well he’s not exactly supposed to be doing that,” M’itha cleared his throat, “In there…”

“So why don’t you do something?”

“Me!? Are you mad?” He leaned forward, “I don’t stand as much of a chance as you do.”

Dutch pressed his lips together in a thin line. How reassuring. “What was that thing?”

“What? Ah- Er, I’m not too sure to be honest.” He gently cupped Dutch’s forearm, “I could show you. Come along.”

\--

“What the hell is this?”

“Um,this is where the other ones like...you...are kept to er, socialize sometimes.” He explained awkwardly, “And whatnot.”

“What do you mean ‘like me’?”

“Uh, some of them are like living trophies and some are adding to a collection of...playthings. I think that’s the best word to use...”

Well Dutch was sure as hell glad he wasn’t one of them, in comparison to what he was. So he was kind of luckily, which was hard to believe. “So why am I...did he...”

“Well Leader general never had an interest in having a partner so it kind of surprised all of us when he came back with you. You must be quite special.”

Dutch hummed, suppressing any flattery he felt, “Why do you call him all of that?”

“It’s what he is.” M’itha chipped, thinking it was obvious. “Honorifics must be addressed.”

“But he’s not over here so why not just use his name?” Leader general must be annoying to say all the time. What was a leader general in the first place? M’itha looked like he was at a loss. “Anyway, what’s happening now?” He eyed all the worker Yautja bustling about determinedly.

“Feeding time…Er breakfast time…breakfast…yes.”

Dutch nodded but looked at M’itha warily. He took this opportunity to scape out the creatures as more came in. They all had limbs at least, some more than other but still. How any of these things were found to be sexually arousing was a wonder he never wanted to understand. With the exception of a fairy looking one. She, he guessed by the figure, had big yellow bug eyes, a face like that of a pretty human female, pale golden transparent dragonfly wings and a fitting mustard coloured dress. Everything else just looked like monsters in a video game. At least the human perception of these monsters were accurate and now...strangely enough, more than real.

“Would you like to sit?” He gestured to the end of the long dining table where there were a few empty seats surprisingly. He had nothing better to do today anyway. In addition there were some important questions he had to ask.

“Were they all…taken, like me?”

M’itha’s eyes somehow saddened as he looked at the human, “Alan.” He began, “There comes a point when you have to acknowledge the hierarchy of nature, those at the top of the food chain. I know humans are a bit…different but this isn’t earth. This way of life is respected here.”

“What are you saying?”

M’itha sighed, he’d being doing alot of that lately, “But it’s what sets humans apart from the rest of the universe. Don’t lose that fight in you. Use that power.”

He stood out of his chair, “Power? I have no power here!” Dutch was a little outraged. The audacity.

The small Yautja stood up a bit as well, “But you do!” M’itha cupped his palms upwards and shook them in exaggeration. “You might not see it yet. But you do.”

Dutch sat back down. He didn’t want to use any ‘power’ or even be here any longer. He just needed to get the fuck back home and be free of this nightmare. No more words exchanged between them.

The fairy sat to his opposite and next to him was the big grotesque creature, or perhaps another one. The face was even uglier up close, the swollen lips in a permanent ‘o’ as it mouth breathed heavily. It made him want to barf, but not as much as when they delivered the large silver domes and uncovered them. Piles of meat upon meat, tentacles, legs, long tongues stuck out here and there on the plates. It was an all out war as they grabbed and chewed, throwing pieces of flesh and blood everywhere.

The fat thing next to him didn’t start immediately, it just breathed and stared, each breath becoming larger and when the breath that looked it like was going to pop it, the mouth opened as big as M'itha’s head and went face first into the pile. Dutch was going to be sick. He cringed into himself as the beast gulped down food. He caught the eyes of the fairy staring at him. She smiled. He furrowed his eyebrows, unable to smile back over the piles of corpses. She held a small leek-like vegetable, up to her nose, sniffing carefully.

When done eating, the big beast threw itself back and fell into the ground and gargled. M’itha who was sitting at the head of the table stood, and ordered two guards to roll the thing away. In the next blink the fairy had replaced the spot. She stared up at Dutch with unblinking eyes. Offering him her vegetable. Dutch felt very leery and for some reason didn’t trust the butterfly. He eventually reached out but then something caught his eye, it looked like a squid tentacle, tucked away and edging almost unnoticeable up her pale yellow arm.

He snapped away quickly but she lashed out with the tentacle, it’s tip sparking. He grabbed it hoping the rest of it wasn’t dangerous to the touch. She squealed and snarled, baring a mouth of sharp teeth. Another one attacked him and he grabbed it, hoping she didn’t have any more than he had arms. The force knocked him out of the chair and into M’itha who tripped and fell but claws stuck out from her fingertips and lashed out at him. He blocked her blows with his elbows and shoved her own tentacles to her face. Her body jerked from the electricity. He used this to kick her away and create some distance. He proceeded to deliver some blows but then he felt himself be picked up from behind by big arms.

It was M’itha, the voice gradually came into his ears, “Hey, Alan stop!”

A guard had come and it seemed M’itha had put himself between them. There was harsh speaking as the small Yautja tried to calm the situation. He held onto Dutch with one had and kept the guard distanced with another. The fairy shook herself and reoriented, the burn in the shape of her tentacle fresh on a cheek and on her chest. She launched at Dutch once more. Before she could reach he grabbed a chair and threw it. It hit her on the head. M’itha yelled some more and another Yautja subdued the fairy.

“Dutch, calm down, don’t incite fights now!”

“What the hell!? It attacked me first!” He tried to pull away.

“You’re bleeding, stop!”

He looked down and saw that he had red all over his white vest. It came from his forearms, where she had scratched him. He cursed. The other beings look petrified and backed away from the guards like opposing magnets. At least he proved he wasn’t to be messed with, despite being the least intimidating. Kevaya, from nowhere separated him and M’itha with a hand on each shoulder. M’itha let go of Dutch like he was hot. He muttered apologies supposedly but the Predator ignored him and lifted Dutch’s arm. He spoke to the smaller Yautja who reacted immediately and ushered the human out.

...

M’itha poured a lime green liquid down his scratches. Dutch hissed on reflex as it sizzled. “You know if you weren’t Kevaya’s you’d be killed by whoever owns that Faerelynx.”

“What!? But What did it attack me for!?” He was pissed. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“You might have startled him.”

“...What the hell... _it_ attacked _me_...”

Kevaya came into the room in that moment. M’itha stood up quickly, dropping the bandages he was about to wrap. He dismissed the smaller Yautja and approached Dutch. He covered one arms’ wounds, displaying the other injured arm in the process. The large Predator looked like he sighed and then knelt to Dutch’s level. He didn’t resist as the large hand grasped his elbow and analysed the bruising. They closed up quickly from the medicine. He would miss the meeting but he did not care for these kinds of things anyway, they were a waste of time.

Kevaya stared longer than he should have, caught in his thoughts. The bed-mates always got along with each other, all but his. His somehow got into a fight on the first meeting. What was the mystery behind this disagreeable scowling being? A mystery he had yet to desperately solve.

He stood, picking Dutch up and sitting, setting him on his lap. He held him close. Who knows what he would have done if something fatal had been done, he didn’t care what anyone had to say, his mate was intelligent, a hunter, like him and he wouldn’t fight without reason. He really had to cool his boiling blood not to rip that pathetic yellow insect into too many tiny pieces.

Dutch couldn’t help but find the position slightly erotic. Every time he was close to the other, only memories of what occurred in that same bed would flash through his mind. His guilt has dissolved into a liquid that was slowly leaking out. He was gradually becoming addicted to this, this Stockholm syndrome.

He ground against Kevaya on his own. It was oddly satisfying to hear the moan he incited. The hands unwrapped and gripped his waist, squeezing, making Dutch grind more vigorously. He felt the member get hard beneath him and he pressed down on it. Kevaya reached and fiddled with his armour, releasing his erection, it popped out and stood grandly. Dutch craved to be filled by it. It was lecherous and dirty but he didn’t care. He wanted it.

He was tipped over gently onto the bed and had his pants pulled off. Kevaya pulled him back up and into his lap. Their erections touched and a spark incited between them and especially in Dutch’s groin. He rocked, rubbing his smaller human member against the bigger green one. His mouth craved a kiss but he wondered if they even did kissing. He leaned in anyhow and licked with his eyes closed. It would be easier if he couldn’t see. Kevaya didn’t exactly know what Dutch was doing but opened his mouth anyhow, engulfing Dutch’s face. He stuck his tongue in and the Predator responded with his own. It was really wet but very erotic.

He struggled to pull away to breathe but managed. Kevaya’s head went lower and Dutch felt the large hands caress his smaller body. Feeling. Waning the touch. Embracing. Indulging. _Loving._

There must be a name for this disease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long update. I had a case of writers block for this chapter. Also, the spacing between paragraphs came out weird I tried to fix it but I don't know why that's happening.


	6. Interlude: To Hear a Predator

_Those who are chosen may enter._

Underneath the far ground, at the bottom of the temple, the floor split with a thunderous noise. The queen was lifted by the massive chains, frozen in time. No one heard her screams as she came back to life, defrosted by the lit braziers around the room. No one saw how she wriggled and screeched helplessly, remembering the artificially enforced cryogenic slumber for who knows how long, deep within the structure.

The ice chamber closed beneath as the mechanism put her in position. To hang in silence yet again. This quiet did not last very long. The mechanism went to work as the putrid spout slowly spat out eggs from the giant sac underneath her onto the conveyor belt. The horrid wet noise accompanying the rhythm of the machinery. She screeched as she birthed, the mechanism of her own body awakening to continue its process of motherhood.

The young males who entered did not see the sunken tile that started it all. It wouldn’t matter. They were here for a purpose anyway: to become Blooded; A rite of passage hunt, proving themselves worthy to saunter into adulthood. This time they were being watched.

This temple was at the centre of a large jungle arena. For the first time there would be an audience. A live one, watching the feed from their helmets on a large screen on the outside. This planet was icy cold and uninhabited, the perfect place for a larger than life arena. Multiple outer-galactic species sat in the rows, ready to be entertained. The arena was built as a means of peace and a symbol of new development of the Yautja. The three that were “lucky” enough to have their rite being the right time the arena was built felt very differently. To put on an honourable show of your passage or bring dishonour to yourself in the face of the galaxy. No pressure.

__They gave their lives so the hunt may begin._ _

The humans strapped to the stone slabs began to tremble. Seven strangers, seven abducted. The queen’s eggs lifted out of the receptacles at the end of each bed. They ceased their talking at the movement, in their fruitless attempts to comfort each other. The eggs opened up and one woman with a Southern American accent began to cry about listening to her crazy husband about the aliens. The noises of terror would not last long as the scorpion like creatures launched, out of their nightmares and onto their faces.

The three looked up for a second upon hearing the muffled screams. The sacrifices had been made.

The humans were surprised at first to still be alive however this revelation was short-lived when the pain in their chests began, erupting; a living creature violently breaking through, killing them in an incredibly traumatic and bloody manner.

…

 

Out of all the trials in the world it had to be his.

He barely made it through the dense jungle and now this, where the true horror lay.

The three males ventured further into the temple. It was all so quiet. Suspiciously quiet.

“Worm.” He almost jumped.

“Yes?”

“Go that way.” Luke gestured to the left. “Mo’kar and I will go this way.”

“We’re splitting up?”

“We will cover more ground this way.”

He considered pointing out the inequality of the situation but decided against it. This must be the way they send him off. At least he would have an honourable death.

He gripped his combistick close to his chest as he headed onward. Eventually he lowered it, there was nothing here, anywhere. He entered into a random chamber when he heard a cry. He ran towards the sound. There was Mo’kar, suspended in the air by the tail of a Xenomorph impaled through his chest. He only managed to see him lifted up, to turn and face his killer. His green blood splattered as the proboscis like pharyngeal jaw pierced his head. The injured Xenomorph on the ground shifted as the blood splattered onto it. It seems to have almost been a likely kill by Mo’kar. He must have been too caught up in the heat of the moment to hear the other behind him. That would lead to hi unsightly death.

The splatter distracted Luke from his own scuffle. He flung the beast he was holding and ran for the assailant. It flung Mo’kar’s body carelessly to the side and leaped down onto Luke. The impact made him fall and they crushed a nearby slab. It flung its tail trying to stab the Yautja but he was barely dodging the blows. He ran with his weapon drawn but Luke kicked the creature off. It knocked into him, throwing him into a wall, breaking through it and into another room. The act was purely accidental but Luke stood up and spoke loudly anyway,

“No, this is __my__ kill!”

He barely heard him from under the rocks. He lay there a tiny bit knocked out. Granted, he admired the strength of that kick.

Luke attacked the beast again. It got the upper hand and pinned him to the ground. He expertly dodged the attack to his head but it’s tail. The force made it get stuck in the ground. He slashed out and sliced the end of it’s sharp tail off. It screamed horribly. He took a second to inspect his now semi- melted blade from the acidic blood. Luke tackled it to the ground in it’s distraction.

The younger finally climbed out from his rock bed and took one glance at Luke spinning the Xenomorph by its tail comically. Luke could handle himself, he decided to go die somewhere else where he wasn’t a bother, and ran off.

Luke threw the Xenomorph, roared, then ran towards it. It swung it’s tail flinging the acidic blood onto the Yautja. He halted and ripped the armour off before it could eat through to his skin. But when he looked up, the beast was gone. He stepped carefully searching all around. He turned his head just barely in time to see it jumping down from above. He released his net and it fell down entangled and through the floor. Luke leapt after it and walked up with his dagger ready to strike as the Xenomorph struggled in the constricting net, causing it to bleed. He did not calculate the chances of it breaking free and jumping him. The last thing he would see was straight into the mouth of the beast.

…

 

The young Yautja continued on solely. Seeing nothing, hearing nothing. He turned direction into another hallway and froze. The walls were covered in the ugly creatures. They snarled at his presence. With a steady hand he lifted his stick. Yet they wouldn’t attack. Then suddenly they all fled, for which his poor heart was grateful.

Something wasn’t right.

There was a loud noise somewhere in the temple. He looked at all the eggs, opening, too many to count. Too many to let survive. He took out his bomb, setting the timer, heaving it among the eggs and making a run for it.

He ran out the exit of the temple, falling over from the impact of the explosion. The trees swayed momentarily. Surely he killed them all. It counted…right?

For a second all was still. He looked behind him at the ruins.

The rubble shifted and he froze. The head of what could be no other than the queen emerged. He put two and two together fast enough and ran. She caught up in no time and he thought he was going to be ended…until she ran right past him. But why?

Too many questions, until he saw where she was heading straight for. He attached a cable to the tip if his net gun and shot. It caught the end of her tail and he was lurched forward and dragged along. How long had she been kept down there? How old was she? She’d learned too much, that was for sure.

She stopped at her destination and heaved her huge body against the giant arena doors. Over and over. The net had cut into her tail and she swung it, this was when he let go. The blood melted holes into the door. She gave it a good ram and then, she was out.

The queen was out of the arena.

Through the space in the trees he could see the panicked faces. This wasn’t good. She ran through the hallway of the entrance and out of sight. He stood up, flabbergasted. There seemed to be an outbreak in the audience as well. He ran and climbed up to where the group was situated. There was cursing and weapons being drawn.

“We should have never built such a thing! You planned this, are you trying to disgrace our people!?” The other party was yelling as well however the language barrier was a thick one. He had to explain this and quick.

He wedged his way between them, “This is a misunderstanding!” He yelled at the elders.

“What are you saying? You, shameless worm!”

“But he- he thinks the same!” He gestured to the Jockeys.

“You better-”

“Let us hear him out.” Another interrupted. “How do you know?”*

“I can…I can uh…speak their tongue.”

“What? A Yautja speaking another tongue?” He hummed, “Speak then.”

He turned to the other party, explaining the situation. They calmed down immensely. __“…So you see, it was an unexpected development of the advancement of the queen’s ability to learn more than we expected….Not to make you look like terrorists. It does not mean…war.__

__“I see…If only your companions were less…brutish and more like you then issues would have been resolved a long time ago. Brain over brawn after all.”_ _

He gushed under his mask. __“If…”__

The older male looked him over, __“What is your name child?”__

__“M’itha.”_ _

__“I believed you just prevented an intergalactic war M’itha.”__  He turned to the other older Yautja. __“Very well.”__  He extended his hand. The elder shook it.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Which he sucked right back in when the queen burst the floor between them. __“Go!”__

The groups disbanded. “How have they not subdued the queen yet!?” One yelled.

They leapt down and into the chaos. Turns out the plasmacasters weren’t doing much damage and with every fling of her bleeding tail she took out lines of them. But they kept on going.

“Stop!” M’itha yelled. “Stop attacking! That’s useless.” He tried to grab someone but they chucked him away. He needed to gain her attention. What he was going to do when he got it…well, he’d have to wing it. Running up the stairs of the arena he took aim and threw his combistick. It stuck her right on the head. If he missed such a big target he’d have to be pretty shit…

She flailed about and locked target on him. His brain delayed for a few seconds as the queen charged full speed at him. He ran to the top row with her right on his tail. Swerving a sharp corner, with too much momentum she smashed into it and almost knocked over the statue, barely giving M’itha an escape. Turning back around he smashed face first into a broad chest.

“Gen-”

“What are you doing child? Have you-”

“Not now- __sir-__  it’s…run!”

“Run!?” The footsteps became louder.

“This one…it’s not ordinary…”

“Get out of my way.”

“You don’t understa- Oh…” They looked down in unison at the tiny jaw impaling his chest. “General…” The body fell and the queen screeched in his face. He took a few steps back and ran for it again. They made a full round of the arena in a classic tale of cat and mouse. Or more-so, Alien versus Predator. She swiped her tail and he fell. This was when she descended toward him, fully annoyed and terribly enraged. She was much bigger than any he’d ever seen. She formed some sort of protective exoskeleton that was unlike any Xenomorph recorded. How did she evolve this far? And here he would die without ever finding out.

She turned away swiftly as some other Yautja shot at her. He ducked from the swing of her tail but was hit by the chain still attached. Thinking quickly he pulled it and attempted to attach it to the broken statue. He only needed one more inch…It was so close but so far. Then suddenly a hand was over his and they pulled it to the monument. They pushed the gigantic broken statue and it fell over the side of the arena. She stumbled and scrambled hopelessly as the weight pulled her. For a second her face was next to his and he almost felt pity, as she fell into the abyss that surrounded the outside. Then there was quiet as they gathered around the edge.

The Yautja walked back around and moved some rubble. “I believe…this is your kill.” He picked up a spoke from her that came off in all the confusion and marked M’itha on the head with it.

He felt the symbol, “Your clan…?” He flash backed to his own clan leader dying just moments before. The generosity of General Kevaya filled him with a cross between joy and a tinge of sadness. “it would be an honour.”

 

* * *

 

"Checkmate."  
  
"Ugh." Dutch groaned. "You just keep winning...How?"

"Simple really, you destroyed your defences in turn 3 when you moved the Rook to B-" He continued his pointless elaborate explanation to Dutch as he stared blankly.

"I'm going to the bathroom." He interrupted.

"After the- Oh. Alright." He responded cheerily. "Shall I reset the board then?" M'itha asked reaching over the pieces anyway.

"Mmm..." He shrugged not really wanting to decline and quickly made his way to the restroom. He did honestly have to go for a piss.

He reached down when he was done but for some reason it felt strange. The usual brush against a testicle wasn't...there. In a petrified trance he reached down slowly and felt. It was soft...he could feel two mounts of flesh but it was flatter and smoother and not quite attached. His testicles were...gone and replaced with...

"A...a...pu...pus...Vagina!?"

He hadn't even noticed the gradual shrink. It was kind of like not noticing your feet growing until your shoes don’t fit anymore. Freaking big shoes these were. He paced around the bathroom in disbelief. What does this mean? How did this happen? He couldn't let Kevaya see this...Oh no.

"Alan? What's the matter?" M'itha stood from the table.

"I..."

"You what?" He held Dutch by the wrists to calm him.

"...Gone..."

"Gone? What's gone? Breathe, slowly, slower..."

He looked down. He didn't want to show him but he couldn't explain. “I…” He sniffed. He was a hard a man as they came but you take away a guy’s nuts he’s bound to cry at least a little. He sat down and put his hands between his legs, looking defeated. M’itha sat across from him and put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. “I’ve become a woman…” He put his face in his hands.

“What?” Dutch wondered if his penis was going to fall off or shrink away as well. It clicked in M’itha’s head. “Oh…”

“Get me out of this nightmare…” he groaned.

“-Birth.”

“What?” He looked up.

“To give birth.”

“Birth!? To give birth to what!?” He stood furiously then sat back down slowly as he crumbled. “No…I can’t I cant. This is crazy. I can’t. M’itha…I-”

He put a hand on Dutch’s thigh looking solemn. “I can...get you out of here Alan.”

 

* * *

 

M’itha's backstory. Inspired by the 2004 Alien vs Predator movie.  
  
*This is Kevaya speaking here as well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not dead. I will finish this. Life has been difficult and hectic for me since finishing college. I've been busy trying to sort my life out. Sorry for the wait. The wonderful reviewers are part of my drive and inspiration. A heartfelt thank you for supporting my story.


	7. To Please A Predator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I've been super busy the past few months.

“What!?”

“I promised.” He squeezed. 

“But what about…”

“It’s risky, but solid. I think.”

Dutch enveloped M’itha into a hug, taking him off guard. Gingerly he hugged back, revelling in the feeling of an unfamiliar but kind embrace. “Thank you.”

…

“It’s just around here.”

Dutch followed him into a small room; it had one large window looking out into the cosmos and a strangle chair in front of it.

“What is this? Where is the…”

M’itha spoke his name. “Alan.” They made eye contact. “I need something from you first.”

He looked around the empty room. “What…where is…”

“A promise.”

“Promise…?”

“Yes.” M’itha stepped towards him and subconsciously he took a step back. He put a hand on Dutch’s chest. “Promise me…yourself.”

“What are you talking about?” He attempted to remove the hand.

“The two of us…” The predator was unwavering, caught in a dreamy trance.

He backed up some more, “Hey, stop.”

“We’ll escape together.”

“What are you talking about…?” He fidgeted with the arm on his chest until they were completely pressed together.

“But if we don’t make it…just once…”

“You…you gone crazy!?” The back of Dutch’s ankle hit a bump in the floor, he stumbled and he fell. The two went tumbling down. M’itha propped up on his palms above him, staring down.

“It was meant to be…You and me. It’s fated.” He held Dutch’s arms down by his wrists.

Dutch pleaded. “Don’t.”

“You’re the only one who…ever…” He paused. Looking down he tugged Dutch’s pants downward.

“Hey, h-hey, hey, HEY STOP!” Dutch’s voice rose as he became hysterical. “HEY!” His breath hitched and he froze as he saw M’itha pull out his erect member.

“Dutch…”

“N-n-n-no don’t do it. M’itha, M’ITHA!” He wiggled as the entranced predator pressed against him completely.

“Let me be the one to take you first… and forever.” The erection rubbed against his thigh as M’itha slowly moved it closer to his new entrance.

He shut his eyes and grimaced as for what was about to transpire. “ _N-”_

Traumatised he sat, on the edge of the bed. With arms folded around himself he could only stare at Kevaya’s chest, feeling victim’s guilt and shame. Dutch heard him sigh before taking a step to leave. Instinctively he reached out and grabbed the Predator’s arm. He wasn’t too sure why he did.

“Stay…” He barely mustered.

In that one word Kevaya could feel everything. He sat on the bed with the small hand still grasping his tightly. Kevaya looked at the top of his head, the hair that had once been buzzed had now grown out into soft waves that just about framed his masculine face. Kevaya reached out to touch the softness of his human hair and gently brought the head to lean against his chest.

_“I will… bring his head…for you.”_

Dutch recoiled, “No!” He paused as they made eye contact, Kevaya’s hand still in place where he just was. “Please… don’t kill him. I…” He still cared for M’itha, he couldn’t find it in his heart to hate the small Yautja; A poor, lonely, aching soul. He just yearned to be loved; a little too deeply.

Kevaya pulled him into a hug and he sobbed into the chest. He pulled back to search the handsomely grotesque face. Putting a hand on his stomach softly he asked, “What is happening to me?” The tears fell freely, built up from perhaps even before he was abducted, so he let them fall and he let it all go.

Previously, Kevaya had never felt any form of guilt, not from his first kill to his most recent. So this was a foreign feeling that confused him as he now experienced it. He felt so sad and with each tear it hurt so much more, he wanted to do anything to make them stop. To see Dutch be happy was now the only non-selfish purpose in his life. Happiness of others did not concern the Yautja.

How could he do this? He wanted to apologise but he wasn’t sure to begin and he didn’t quite understand why either.

 _“You are carrying…mine.”_  He brushed the back of his fingers against Dutch’s hand where it rested on his stomach.

His eyelids drooped and he blinked rapidly, “What.” He looked down at the large hand on his, “Oh.” And he was, okay. Just okay. He didn’t despise what was inside of him nor was he scared. But he wasn’t eager or expectant either. More curious as to what that might bring. Was this new growing feeling one of joy? Only time would tell if it was. He scooted onto the bed more pulling Kevaya along.

“Lay with me?”

He pressed his head against Kevaya’s shoulder as they lay side by side.  _“Does this…make you happy?_ ” A question too innocent for such a large dangerous creature.

Dutch nodded, it wasn’t quite happiness but it was close enough.

…

Dutch fought the hands that held him until he heard a familiar husky voice. He opened his eyes and saw Kevaya’s face above his. The hands let him go and he sat up, letting his heart beat slow down. He sniffed and gripped the covers in his fists. In his dream the assailant was someone new, a predator crafted by his own imagination. His old comrades were there. Standing, expressionless, doing nothing no matter how much he called out. Dutch was numb.

The expression he gave Kevaya was on the brink of despair. It pulled at something inside of the Predator that had never been touched before. His movements were slow as he lay Dutch back down. He nuzzled his mate and the two of them held each other close.

Large green fingers intertwined smaller human ones. Dutch’s eyes were tightly closed as Kevaya inserted and gently rocked above him. He considered this the first time a second time. Kevaya was bound to make it right.

“ _N-noh-”_  But before he could finish the pressure on his chest was suddenly gone as M’itha’s body flung. He blinked an eye open. Kevaya stood grandly in the light of the doorway. He sat up and looked over to where M’itha was thrown. There was a sharp ringing in his hears surrounded by a dull silence. The large predator knelt and curiously wiped a tear off Dutch’s face, that he didn’t even know he made.

He watched Kevaya get up and approach the smaller, cowering predator. He grabbed him by the neck and hoisted him up until his neatly clad feet hovered above the ground.

The Yautja language was choked not that Dutch could understand anyway. He reared his hand with a sharp weapon but halted before the blow could make impact. M’itha opened his eyes. Kevaya turned his head to see the face, that belonged to the small hand, that obstructed his vengeful strike. He dropped M’itha carelessly and turned to face his human fully, in an intimidating stance that made Dutch cower.

He sniffed “I can’t…” Unable to say more words he tried to forced his face to stay calm, biting his lip he looked down. The effort to control was useless. With one last glance at the hoarsely breathing Yautja on the floor he took Dutch and left.

* * *

 

Even an Attempt was still as horrible. Especially by a friend, it was so tremendously painful. Why?

He thought back on the time they spent together and how little moments could be misinterpreted. He couldn’t count the days because he didn’t keep track, not like he knew how anyway. Should he blame himself?

No. His trust and kindness was abused. However he could only find forgiveness in his mind. Perhaps he was aboard this spaceship to find peace. An inner peace that made no difference in the world because just like everything else, he was just a tiny speck that would leave no mark behind. Maybe life was about being selfish after all.

But the growth inside him made him feel otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time. I broke my 3k word minimum rule :( I was stuck on this chapter for a long time. This is definitely the most difficult one so far.


End file.
